Of Love and Death
by MitsukiSora-dessu
Summary: Forced to endure years of abuse. /Bathed in the blood of those loved./ A broken body but not a broken mind. /"Can you tell me your name?"/ Did he break your mind like he did my body? /LaLa, we'll be your family./ Clutching at her wounded eye she screamed, long and hard. /"Memories are the most painful injury of all."/ Save me, Allen...


**Well not much to really say. Just a semi-kinda new story. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own -man. **

**Warning: It does start out seeming like a LaLa/Allen fic but I plan on adding Kanda in later or maybe even making it a Lavi/Allen fic. But until then it's gonna be listed as just Allen. **

* * *

**Chapter 1: Lies**

Years pass in the blink of an eye. The sun rises, only to be replaced by the glistening silver known as the moon, and the cycle is repeated over and over again. It's never ending. Before anyone even noticed twenty years had come and gone. With that moving time her innocent purity vanished, just like the sun when it sinks below the horizon.

Emotions tore through her body in a rushing current of confliction before settling on indifference. He whispered in her ear, his breath hot, his tone loving, but his eyes were cold. Cold and piercing like the first and last gust of bitter winter air. "I love you, LaLa." She didn't believe him; she never did, for his eyes were always cold. But she would never call him on his lie. He was her savior, the reason she was alive, and he controlled whether or not she stayed that way. "Do you love me?" Her voice sounded stranger in her ears, as if it didn't belong to her, when she whispered back,

"I love you."

Just like him she lied. It was the only way to survive. He controlled her in every way. Because of him she lived, a life of pain but it was still a life, and because of him she knew firsthand how cruel humans could truly be. Memories invaded her mind while his arms wrapped themselves around her shoulders, encasing her body in a cage made from the flesh on his vile bones. As if reading her mind he chose that exact moment to whisper in her ear once again, "You remember that night, six years ago, don't you LaLa?" How could she forget? "That was the night you officially became mine; my woman." And the woman of three other men, she thought. "You've grown so much." Under your careful ministrations of course, mentally she rolled her eyes, outwardly she leaned into his touch just because she knew it would please him. Maybe he wouldn't hurt her tonight if she let him do what he wanted now. Not like she's ever had a choice.

That wish went unanswered. Like every other night he inflicted more pain to her body, adding to the scars that will always serve as a reminder of him if she ever managed to escape. She wondered, vaguely, why her mind had yet to be broken when her body had been thoroughly trained. Would this be easier if she was broken? A scream tore through her throat, her stomach burning with an agonizing fire of pain. Looking down she bit her lip to stifle her cries as he pulled the knife from her belly. "Don't worry, LaLa, I didn't cut deep." The unspoken this time hung in the air around them but at that moment all she cared about was the dark crimson blood sliding down her body from the open cut. When the flow of blood didn't slow or lesson she realized- maybe too late- that he lied. Knowing she was finally going to die she mustered up the strength that was quickly fading and spit in his face, hissing her words out through clenched teeth, "You bastard."

Her conscious was slipping away from her, fast, but she remained awake long enough to hear his sigh of fake regret. "Pity. You always was my favorite, LaLa."

* * *

Ever so slowly the black fog lifted from around her body and mind. Looking around, disoriented and slightly groggy, she whimpered with confused panic. "Where am I? I'm supposed to be dead right?" Asking the words out loud was a lot better than having them echo back at her. Pressing her hand to her stomach she realized the blood had stopped. Did he save her? No, no, no! Her mind screamed at her, praying to every single God she knew of, praying that she really was dead and not in his hold once more. She could hear footsteps coming closer, heading towards her, making her fear grow. The inside of her mind was screaming at her to move but the fear she felt paralyzed her into immobility. Panic made her insides churn when the footsteps stopped, not far from where she was.

As if she was moving in slow motion she slowly turned her head, looking at the front of the doorway, seeing boot clad feet that didn't look like something he would wear. Her eye traveled from the floor, taking in the person who was standing in the door frame. Finally she reached his face, shocked when she didn't see his face. Instead she saw a young man with a slight baby face, a pleasant smile that calmed her nerves, bright grey eyes that held a shine of blessed innocence, and hair the color of midnight. Like her his hair covered one eye.

"You're awake?" He asked, walking closer into the room, still smiling.

"Where am I? How did I get here?" Uneasy, afraid, cautious, and many other things projected from her voice but the young man acted as if he didn't notice. His voice, soothing and gentle, calmed her just like that smile.

"I found you on my way home from work the other night. You've been asleep for about three days by the way." Listening to his voice, LaLa could hear a slight accent but she couldn't tell what it was. British, perhaps? "It's a miracle you survived, though you technically died once. Luckily the paramedics were able to bring you back. Can you tell me your name?"

Should she tell him? She didn't really have anything to lose unless this man was connected to _him_. "What do you do for work?" The young man blinked in surprise at her question but he gave her an answer none the less.

"I work with the police." The police? Maybe he could help her then. _He_ had been her savior, her sanctuary, her cage, and her Hell. But maybe the young man infront of her could be her freedom.

"LaLa. That's the only name I know." It was true. She didn't really know her name. LaLa was the name that_ he_ called her, though she was the one who gave herself that name.

"Well," he looked taken aback, just a little, at the prospect of her not knowing her real name. But was it really that surprising? A name was just a word used to call an object. "What about parents?" She shook her head no. "A mother?" Another shake. "Father?" No. "Family in general?" Only those people at_ that_ place. Not like she would tell him about_ that_. "Then we'll be your family from now on."

"We?"

"My room-mate and I. I'm Allen."


End file.
